Seconds, weeks, years slide by. All that time you keep your eyes shut to the bleak, hopeless reality. All that time you keep your mind open to God. He tells you that it's okay you see no way forward and to not focus on that. He tells you that it's okay you see no way back and to not focus on that. God says, "Just be here with Me."
It's hard to just "be here", to not do or know anything about what you thought would happen. It is very hard to know so surely that God brought you into this dark moment yet have no proof or idea of why. You want to think about and figure out the "why" and the "what's next" questions, but God quietly insists, "Just be with Me."
So you let that lovely urging pull open your eyes. God said He was here, so why not just look at Him instead of wondering why He is and you are here.
Instantly you see God. No, you don't see a visible human. You see light: sunlight that dazzles your eyes, warms your bones, and eliminates all the shadows of doubt that the dark mountains created. It's really just a sunrise yet means so much more. It means that those dark, impenetrable mountains were never trapping you; a way out always existed, but you just couldn't see it yet because it was night. The mountains weren't cursed by eternal darkness; it was just a night (a long night but just one) that you spent here. Most wonderfully, that sunrise coming at the very moment you decided to just be with God instantly illuminates the fact that all God ever wanted--all that ever mattered--was for you to be with Him.
The sunrise is the most beautiful light because it is God rejoicing in you just being in His love. In this sunrise you do finally just be here with Him.